


Not Angry Anymore

by zvi



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Character of Color, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-19
Updated: 2004-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-01 23:36:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvi/pseuds/zvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darryl's waiting and tired. He's almost tired of waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Angry Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> A [Family Ficathon](http://www.slashx-files.com/ffic/) story written for Willow about Darryl Banks. The title is from the [Ani Difranco song](http://www.danah.org/Ani/UpUpUp/AngryAnymore.html)

Darryl gets the call in his trigonometry class. PA system crackle five minutes into class, and he knows it's his dad that's got him called to the principal's office.

Darryl hates the principal. Dr. Morton is a mean, little, white man who yells at teachers and students on an equal basis. He speaks quietly to Darryl when he hands over a hall pass and tells Darryl to clear out his locker and come back to wait for his mother. Morton can't resist snapping, "You have just five minutes, Mr. Banks," on the end. It's sort of comforting, to know that Morton will always be harsh.

Darryl takes exactly five minutes; he hangs out in the hall for an unnecessary forty-five seconds to make the time come out right. He winds up waiting for his mother for twenty minutes. Times like these, he wishes he could drive. His mother works on the other side of town, but the hospital is only five minutes away by car. He could leave and get a burger or a milkshake or something before he had to get to the hospital.

He's sitting at the front office, picking at a hangnail when his mother walks in. Her makeup is gone, but he can spot a couple of splotches on her chin where she didn't quite wipe away the mascara. So, it's bad, but it's not so bad she's really worried about ending up on camera. She would have double-checked her make-up, maybe even re-applied if the fucking reporters had been at the hospital.

He stands up and says, "You have to sign me out."

She works her jaw a little, but just says, "Where?" and walks over to the attendance book he points at. She signs her name and says, "Let's go," and turns around and walks out.

They go up to the waiting room for the surgery floor. His dad has been shot in the leg, but the bullet missed the bones completely. Two muscles are torn up really badly, and they're talking five or six hours for the surgery. Darryl doesn't want to be here, doesn't like waiting here. Hospitals have really bad chairs in their waiting rooms and cafeteria food at a hospital is still cafeteria food. Also, it's a little scary just how un-healthy the stuff they serve is.

His mom is watching the tv, it's turned to a soap opera. There's a little half-smile on her face.

"What's funny?"

She blinks, once, twice. His mom is always deeply enthralled when she watches a tv show, which is why she doesn't do it a lot. "The last time I watched this was in the waiting room when you and your dad were getting checked out from that disaster in South America, right? And I can sort of follow what's going on here. It's just funny, that's all."

"It's really, really not," he says.

She nods. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, you know."

"What?"

She waves around them negligently. "Here, waiting. I mean, this time, it's not too bad. He's not going to die. But waiting to hear if he'll walk and how long he'll be down for…. It wasn't supposed to be like this." She smiles bitterly. "Way back in the day when I met your dad, he was going to be a lawyer. Work on civil rights law, be like Thurgood Marshall."

Darryl frowns. "Dad? But don't lawyers have to be, uh,…?"

"Diplomatic." She chuckles, but she isn't really laughing. "Your dad couldn't handle the mindless ritual. So he joined the police force." She rolls her eyes. "Just as many dumb rules, but the adrenaline made up for it. So he said."

"I couldn't. I couldn't make someone do this, all the time. The waiting."

She laughs at him, a real laugh this time. "As far as I know, computer programming isn't dangerous. Well, except for the RSI, but you know that's coming, so." She snorts again. The idea that her son wants to make a living telling computers what to do is an endless amusement to her, although she has never explained why.

Darryl sighs. "How did this happen?"

His mom shrugs. "No one really told me. Some guy attacked the police station, so…." She shrugs again.

"So, we're on the outside until they get the guy." Darryl gets up. "I'm going to go for a walk now. This is too much."

His mom nods. "I—maybe I should have waited to get you until school was done for the day."

"Maybe. Couldn't make a difference to him anyway." Darryl walks out of the surgery waiting room. He sees two cops standing at the end of the hall, near the entrance to the OR suites. They glare at him.

When the elevator opens, Blair gets out. Blair doesn't see Darryl, and Darryl doesn't say anything.


End file.
